


The Truth of the Matter

by Ionah



Series: Insignificant Things [5]
Category: Grimm
Genre: Dark, Drugged Sex, M/M, Monroe's POV, Zaubertrank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ionah/pseuds/Ionah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick might not remember, but Monroe certainly would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth of the Matter

**Author's Note:**

> I had to know. So I wrote it. I thought about not posting but then decided why not? Someone besides me might enjoy it. If you'd rather Nick and Monroe's encounter stay a mystery, I suggest you skip this.

Nick might not remember, but Monroe certainly would. 

Nick's head rested against the back of the passenger seat, and he just sat there next to Monroe with his eyes closed, his breath steady and even. 

The Zaubertrank had made Nick tractable and calm in a way Monroe hadn't seen before. He and Rosalee had decided, if it became necessary for Monroe to do this, that the shop was no place for what had to happen and that he would take Nick back to his house. Monroe would need the privacy and comfort of his own home, and Nick would probably appreciate the same consideration later. 

There was that part of Monroe that knew this wasn't right and that he shouldn't be doing this. Not to Nick or to Rosalee, but he and Rosalee had discussed it at length this past week, after Monroe had managed a coup and gotten his hands on the last almost impossible to find—and damned expensive—ingredient for the Zaubertrank. 

The decision had been made.

He couldn't leave Nick at the mercy of anyone who was capable of putting that potion together and was bold enough to use it. The dying thing went both ways. Whoever did this to Nick obviously thought the risk of an early death was worth it to have Nick under his thumb. Monroe would need to know who that person was eventually, but he would wait for Nick to tell him.

Rosalee had warned him that Nick had held out much longer than he should have been able to against the original Zaubertrank, quite possibly resisting longer because he was a Grimm. Although tonight would start the process, this would just be the beginning. To completely end the other guy's hold over Nick's will, Monroe would have to follow through with the entire Zaubertrank.

He took a deep breath to steady his shaking hands on the steering wheel. For right now, he just hoped he could get through tonight.

He was really glad all the details had already been decided on, because from the moment he'd swallowed down that potion, the buzz of adrenaline flooding his veins had made it hard to concentrate. Now he could hardly think of anything but the hardness in his pants and the zing of electricity that seemed to spark randomly throughout his body whenever he caught sight of Nick from the corner of his eye.

“Why would you do this?” Nick asked suddenly, the first words he'd spoken since Monroe had helped him slide into the car's seat ten minutes ago.

Monroe's hands tightened on the Bug's steering wheel. “You could have died when you stepped into that cage to fight for me. How can I not do the same for you?”

“It's different,” Nick said. “I knew a rescue was on the way.”

“And I know Rosalee isn't going to give up on you. Or us.”

Nick moved finally, stretching his legs out in front of him, opening his thighs a bit wider. “I think it's started. I need you to hurry.” He looked out the window to his right, seeming to take in their location. They were just a few houses away from the turn that lead to Monroe's neighborhood.

“This isn't going to be as awkward as I thought,” Monroe said. “I'm really sorry, Nick. I don't know how you're feeling, but this thing is making me feel like you're the hottest thing since Mary Ellen Lambert in ninth grade. She was the first girl I liked after I hit puberty and blutbad puberty isn't exactly tame.”

“I want it. God, Monroe. You're going to have to do something soon.” Nick moved his hand to the crotch of his pants, the heel of his palm pressing firm against the outline of his cock. 

Monroe was grateful he was pulling into his own driveway when it happened, because his throat closed up and he felt his eyes widen as the scent of Nick's arousal hit him with the same sudden intensity as the scent of fresh warm blood. His own cock went from hard to painful in two seconds flat.

“We need to get inside,” he said, parking the car with a jerking motion of hand and arm, and then reaching over to throw open his door. 

He got out, but then realized Nick wasn't following and he quickly rounded the car to open Nick's door. Nick had his head bent back, his throat exposed, and his hand rubbing and scraping against the fly of his jeans. Monroe heard the low sounds coming from Nick's throat and thought for a moment he was going to have to bend Nick over the damn seat and take him right then to stop the desperate noises, they were affecting him so strongly.

“This is so bad,” Monroe muttered, grabbing Nick by the upper arm and tugging until Nick looked up, his eyes dim and unfocused. He seemed to understand what Monroe wanted because he climbed out of the seat and stood up next to Monroe.

“Here,” Monroe said, clutching Nick's arm and pulling him along, up the driveway, sidewalk, steps, and onto the porch. He fumbled for his key, released Nick long enough to get the door opened, and then yanked Nick inside. “I didn't realize it would do me like this. Rosalee didn't say—”

But then he and Nick were inside and he slammed the door closed. He turned on Nick without another thought and pushed him up against the wall by the stairs. 

“I'm so sorry,” he said, before smacking his hands up beside Nick's head, leaning in, and crushing his mouth to Nick's, kissing him as if the world would end if he didn't. Hot wet mouths, tongue and lips and it was all so foreign and freaking awesome at the same time.

Nick let him. Of course he did, and Monroe knew that felt wrong somehow, but he was unable to stop it once it had begun. He wanted everything, _absolutely everything_ , Nick had to give and he wanted it now.

Nick spoke against Monroe's lips. “Please,” he said, both harsh and demanding. “This isn't enough. I'm burning up, please, just—do it. Fuck me.”

Monroe reacted on instinct, his blutbad nature not as under control as he had hoped it would be. He clenched his fingers in the front of Nick's jeans and it took everything he had not to rip and tear as he unsnapped the fly and dragged the zipper down. The back of his fingers grazed thin fabric and hot, firm flesh and he sucked in his breath just as Nick rolled his head back against the wall and thrust his hips forward. 

“Please...” Nick said again, this time sounding so desperate that Monroe had to bite back a growl.

His body hurtled toward the edge of woge, his senses so sharp and clear it was almost painful. He'd known it was a risk, and he had decided he had to take that chance, but now it seemed as if he'd been right to worry. It had to be the drug making it so hard to maintain the restraint he practiced every day.

He needed to move fast, get at least a modicum of satisfaction before he lost all ability to stop the transformation. He couldn't treat Nick like a blutbad female because Nick would have a much lower tolerance for the pain of penetration and everything that went along with a traditional blutbad mating.

Monroe had never tried to fuck a man before and he wasn't exactly sure how this was going to work out anyway. If there'd been any other reasonable choice, he never would have thought it was a good idea to try it out on somebody he actually cared about.

“Nick. Nick. Nick--” He said, trying to get Nick to pay attention. 

Nick's eyes opened and looked right at Monroe, but there was no comprehension there in the blue-gray irises, only dilated pupils and a glassy stare. “I can't wait anymore. Please, please fuck me. Anything you want. Just do it now.”

“I'm sorry,” Monroe said, and he pulled Nick down to the floor and started stripping off his jeans, his socks, his underwear, his shirt, leaving his gun and badge and everything attached and just shoving it aside for the time being. He would deal with it all later, when he had more than the thought of getting his cock into something, anything, in his head, to ease the ache, to stop the heat burning through every artery and vein in his body.

Nick remained pliable as Monroe turned him over onto his belly and pulled his knees under him and then as he looked down, he realized this wasn't going to work, not without the lubricant he'd bought and left upstairs in preparation for just this turn of events.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against the small of Nick's back, breathing deeply, and the scent of arousal filled his nose again. He sat back and started getting to his feet, but as soon as his hands came off Nick's hips, a low whimper came out of Nick's throat, followed by a frantic, “No! No. Don't stop.”

“I have to. I'm sorry. I'll be back.”

He hurried up the stairs, taking them three at a time in a long-legged stride, and reached his bedroom just as a choked gasp, harsh and loud, came from below, and he realized Nick had to be going absolutely crazy with desire.

The thought spurred him on and he yanked open the bedside drawer, almost pulling it completely out of the table. He found the tube, slammed the drawer shut, and by the time he took the last step down the stairs, he had the tube open and was squeezing out globs of thick lubricant all over his fingers.

He was actually going to do this.

Nick hadn't moved from his position and the sight of his ass right there waiting sent what was no doubt a drug induced thrill straight to Monroe's cock. Wherever it came from, the white-hot need to bury himself in that body brought him to his knees, bone meeting unyielding floor with a loud thud.

Nick tensed at the sudden sound and pushed up on his elbows.

Monroe lost track of himself after that, knowing only that he remembered to spread the lubricant outside and in, and also on himself. Knowing only that the pain of holding back the woge was outmatched by the breath-stealing pleasure of pushing his cock inside Nick's tight, dark hole.

He fucked Nick, and when Nick asked him to, he fucked him even harder, thrusting with a snap of his hips that created the most perfect friction imaginable.

When he came the first time, he dug his fingers into the flesh of Nick's hips so hard he knew there would be bruises, but he didn't care. He filled Nick's ass with his semen and he buried his face against Nick's back as his hips flexed and thrust, grinding, grunting, back taut and shoulders curled in, panting from the exertion.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled against the sweaty flesh of Nick's back.

“More,” Nick said, his voice thick, and Monroe had a moment where he thought he understood what Nick had meant when he'd said he'd felt like he was going crazy because he wanted it so bad. It hadn't been anywhere near enough and Nick continued to push back against Monroe, trying to fuck himself on Monroe's cock, Monroe's shaft still hard and thick in Nick's ass.

So he gave Nick what he asked for, until Nick came against the cold hard floor and then later on the soft flat mattress in Monroe's bed, until Monroe had nothing left to give and Nick lay exhausted under him.

The drug wore off and Monroe slowly became aware of the time that had passed and the condition of his room and the cool air against his naked body.

Nick might not remember any of this later, but Monroe would never forget it. 

He got up from the bed, turned off the lamp, and slipped into a pair of loose pants. He would shower, then gather Nick's things and dress him, just so Nick wouldn't wake up and be humiliated at the thought of what had gone on here. He would also call Rosalee so Nick wouldn't be alone.

A glance at the bed and his gaze landed on the sight of Nick's back, sleek in the early light of sunrise, his dark hair and shadowed cheek only visible because of Monroe's sensitive vision.

How could he look at Nick and not suffocate from the tightness in his chest, the pain in his heart, and the memory of pleasure from every touch?

He had thought he understood what this might do to him, but the truth of the matter was so much worse.


End file.
